


Two Guns Fired

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cara Being a Good Bro, Gen, Hurt child, Hurt/Comfort, Mando Being a Good Dad, Mando'a, Omera Being a Good Bro, Spoilers for Ep 4, gunshot wound, i tried my best lol, limited medical knowledge, slightly anyway, sorry haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21682330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Cara's not the only one who shoots this time
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 353





	Two Guns Fired

**Author's Note:**

> you think me good at writing? bah you have been fooled! 
> 
> this one was actually beta read by a friend this time. anything can happen
> 
> so if there are any mistakes it's his fault now hahahahahaha

Dyn is pushing Omera back and behind him as soon as the gunshot rings out. His heart is racing, and he curses himself for letting his guard down so much. He's been here too long, and he's gotten to comfortable. Now the village, and more accurately, the Child was in danger again. 

“Get the kids,” he ordered quickly, and then darts towards the source of the shot as fast as he could. A second shot could be heard, followed by a thud as he approaches the source. He finds Cara standing over a still steaming body, the sniping gun which had been used beside it. 

“He was here for one of us,” Cara said pointedly, and points at the fob abandoned on the ground. Dyn’s eyes widen at the sight, and he suddenly grows dizzy, breath short. She's looking at him, but he can't look back. “Who?” 

“The kid,” he said shortly, and turns again, dread building in his chest. The sniper had taken his shot before Cara could stop him. And if he was here for who he thinks…. 

“Mando!” Omera called, and he could hear the desperation in her voice. He runs faster, breaking back into the village, skidding to a halt when he sees her, and what she's holding. 

The Child is in her arms, limp, with a dark blaster mark on his left shoulder. 

A feeling he's never felt before builds in his stomach, threatening to make him vomit at the sight. He pushes it down, not able to ignore the building fear in his heart, however. Cara appears beside him, and gives him a shove as she moves past him, to Omera to look the Child over. “We need to treat the wound, quickly,” she said, taking charge, quickly. Omera nods. “Use some of the herbs at the forest edge in a fine paste, and then wrap it tightly. Try to get something to cool it down.” 

They're looking at Dyn expectantly, and he nods, despite it all sounding so far, so distant. His eyes have yet to leave the Child’s face, which was currently twisted in pain, his ears angled backwards. He has to force his eyes away, and to get his body moving to find the herbs needed. He hears Cara continue giving instructions out behind him. “If you have any bacta, please bring it to the barn. We’ll treat him there.” 

If Dyn weren't so racked with concern for the Child, he'd have to admire Cara’s quickness. She'd taken the situation into her hands as soon as she'd assessed it while all Dyn could do was stare in horror. He knew what to do normally in these situations- he'd been shot hundreds of times- but the sight of his kid with the blaster wound made him short circuit. 

He quickly finds the herbs Cara had mentioned, and grabs as many as he could carry. He makes his way back to the barn as fast as possible, handing Omera the herbs so she could grind them into a paste. He then steps inside, finding the Cara bent over the Child, his robe opened enough to reveal the angry wound on his tiny, green shoulder. He nearly grows dizzy all over again, but forces himself to stay clear headed, kneeling beside Cara to inspect the wound as well. The Child’s eyes are still shut, probably unconscious due to the shock, and if not for the slight rising and falling of his small chest, Dyn would have panicked about him still being alive. 

“What can I do to help?” Dyn asked Cara, hoping his voice was even, and that it was not currently trembling with his fear. His voice was the only give away to his true emotions, and yet it was still the hardest aspect of himself to control. 

Cara doesn't even look to him, using a dampened rag to gently begin cleaning the wound. She opens her mouth to speak, but whatever she was going to say in that moment is interrupted by a loud, high pitched scream tearing from the Child’s throat. There is suddenly an invisible force slamming into his chest- and everyone else’s, it would appear- and he was flung across the room. He instantly had a flashback to the encounter with the Mudhorn, when the Child had held it with nothing but his mind. 

“That… that was the Force,” Cara said, her voice filled with awe. Dyn glances to her, before he pushes back up and quickly returns to the Child’s side, placing one of his hands on the tiny, green forehead. He'd ask her about whatever the kreth this “Force” was later, after they'd helped his Child. 

“Atiniir, ad’ika, atiniir,” Dyn whispered as soothingly as he could to the Child as he could, running one of his fingers along the green skin. He hadnt even noticed he'd slipped back into Mando’a. “Cara dinuir gaa’tayl. K’uur…. k’uur…” 

He was pretty sure the Child could not actually understand him, but he seemed to be calming at his voice. His small body relaxes, head leaning into the touch of his hand. His ragged breathing was slowing again, and he motions with his other hand for Cara to approach again. She does so, a tad slower than he would have preferred, but Omera is handing her the bowl of paste, some bandages, and a bacta patch. 

“Okay… I need you to keep him calm,” Cara said pointedly, and grabs the rag she'd been holding before. She is looking at the Child with a strange expression, one of awe, almost, before she shakes herself and slowly returns the rag to the wound. The Child begins to tense, and she pauses. 

“K’uur, ad’ika, k’uur…” Dyn continued to whisper, lightly tracing one of the bumps on the Child’s head. He instantly calms once more, and Cara quickly cleans the wound. She then spreads the paste across it, as Dyn continues to murmur softly to the Child, followed by the bacta patch. Finally, she looks to him, and he instantly knows what she needs. He gently lifts the Child from the mattress, his murmuring of reassurances never ceasing as she carefully and tightly wraps the bandage around the wound. 

“Mar’e!” Dyn expresses in a breath, laying the Child back down. He looks to Cara, remembering to switch to Basic just before he speaks again. “Thank you, Cara. Really.” 

Cara smirks, and then looks down at the now peacefully sleeping Child fondly. “I couldn't just let the rascal suffer like that,” she said, and nods seriously to Dyn. “It's no trouble. I'm glad to have helped.” 

“Thank you, as well,” he continues, looking to Omera now. She gives him a small smile. 

“You're my guests, what else am I going to do?” she said pointedly. She sighs, and turns somber. “Now, why was your boy shot at?” 

Dyn frowns beneath his helmet, followed by a long sigh. “He's wanted,” he explained. “He's wanted and has the highest reward of any bounty out there to my knowledge.” 

Both women’s eyes widen significantly. “Why would a child be wanted?” Omera asked, her brows scrunching together. “What could he have done to warrant such a large bounty?” 

Dyn is about to answer, but Cara beats him to it. “He has the Force,” she said, looking from Dyn to Omera, and then to the Child, who was still sleeping soundly. Or, as soundly as a child who has just been shot could. “A lot of people probably want to use that to their benefit.”

“What is this… ‘force’, you're talking about?” Dyn asked, his curiosity getting the better of him now that his child was safe. 

Cara throws him an incredulous look. “You mean to tell me he's your boy and you don't even know what the Force is?” she asked in disbelief. 

Shifting unconsciously, Dyn replies, “I only got him a few weeks ago. After I'd been given the bounty to capture him.” 

Omera nods, finding this answer to be acceptable. Anyone would do the same thing if they spent more than two minutes with the Child. Cara shakes her head and sighs. 

“I don't know much about it,” Cara said, returning to the previous topic. “Only what Princess- General Organa and Commander Skywalker told us.” She pauses, glances to the Child. “But apparently it's a… well, force, that surrounds and binds all of us together. Not all of us can use it, but some are born with the ability to.” She shakes her head again. “But I'd only ever met one person with that ability, and it was Commander Skywalker.” She gets a distant look suddenly, as though remembering all of her battles in a single second. She shakes herself. “So for your boy to have it is really something special. It makes sense that there are people after him.” 

Dyn draws in a breath at her explanation, taking a seat on the stool beside the Child’s current resting spot. That was… a lot, to take. He'd heard glimpses of this Force in old Mando’a stories, but he'd only ever believed them to be just that. Stories. Not reality. And for his Child to possess such a strength… Cara was right, it did make sense that the Client was so desperate to get him in his clutches. 

Not that Dyn would let that happen. Not as long as he could still breathe. 

“That's… amazing,” Omera said, her voice faint, as though she were having a hard time believing this, too. “I'd heard stories about this, but I hadn't ever believed them.” Ah. She was having the same thoughts as him, then. 

Cara nods in acknowledgment. “It truly is an amazing gift,” she said. “One that Commander Skywalker had learned to control and use to the Rebellion’s advantage.” She smirks at Dyn. “Maybe your boy could do the same for you.” 

It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but it was lost on Dyn. All he could do was reach a hand out to run it along his Child’s forehead again, earning a soft chirp of contentment as he leaned into the touch once more. The sight makes his heart ache. 

“We’re going to have to leave as soon as he gets better,” Dyn said gravely, not looking away from his Child. He had just believing he'd found a good place for him to live, too, and now this happens. “It's too dangerous to keep him here now.” 

Omera nods, her own expression grave. She understood how he was feeling, due to their previous conversation. Cara purses her lips and pushes from the wall she'd ended up leaning against. 

“It'll be a few days. Maybe a week at most, depending on how fast the little guy heals,” she informed him, and he acknowledges her words with a silent nod. “I'll keep an eye out for any other mercenaries until then. You just stay with your boy.” 

Dyn turns to her, surprised, “I couldn't ask you to do that-” 

She holds a hand up. “You're not, and I'm going to, so don't worry about it,” she said, and turns towards the door. “You just worry about your boy.” 

She doesn't wait for a response, and exits the barn, leaving Dyn and Omera. 

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” Omera said, breaking a small silence that had fallen over them. He glances to her, and nods, and then returns his gaze to his Child. “I'll bring you some dinner later.” 

“Thank you,” he said again, and she takes her leave. 

He looks back to his Child’s resting face, drawing a deep breath through his nose to calm his still racing heart. He would be okay now, he and Cara had made sure about that, and he was resting now, but the adrenaline from seeing his Child on the brink of death still had his body vibrating. 

His Child murmurs in his sleep, eyes tightening, and he shifts, so Dyn leans forward, rests his hand on his forehead again, and runs his fingers along skin. He scratches at the start of the large ears, tracing his finger along the edges, and his Child’s unhappy mutters slowly turn to pleased coos as he relaxes back into the mattress. 

And, Cara had been right. It did take a few days for the Child to heal. On the first, he’d stayed sleeping as they checked the wound and replaced the bandages. Omera had carefully fed him some spatcha and stew, and Dyn had made sure he had enough blankets. On the second is when the Child awoke. Dyn had been eating his own food, finally able to do so- he hadn't been alone much since the first day, and even if he had been, he would have been too worried to eat- when he'd heard the uneasy cooing from behind him. 

He turned, eyes meeting a much darker and larger pair as two large ears angled upwards at the sight of the caregiver. His Child cooed again, reached his hands out towards him, and Dyn was abandoning his food, quickly making his way over and taking both tiny hands in his current bare ones. He then notices the tears glazing over the dark eyes, and his heart breaks all over again. 

“Hey, hey, ad’ika, don't cry,” he said, his voice much smoother now that he wasn't wearing his helmet. “I know it hurts. But you've been so strong. It will feel better soon.” 

His Child chitters sadly, his ears angled backwards, and Dyn can feel his small hands wrapping around a finger on both of his own hands tightly. Well, as tightly as he could hold, anyway. His strength was still weak in most standards, but he Dyn knew he was giving it all when squeezing his hands. 

“You’ll be okay,” Dyn says, trying to reassure himself at the same time as his Child. “You'll be okay.” 

They leave after another two days. Dyn carries his Child wherever they need to go, seeing as the wound was still bad enough to cause his Child distress. The first time he's tried standing after being shot, he'd been squirming to leave the bed and drop to the floor from the edge as he had always done, wanting to go to his father and get a hug, but the Mandalorian was on the other side of the room. But as soon as his foot had gotten weight on it, his shoulder flared pain throughout his body and he'd fallen on his side with a feeble cry. Dyn had rushed to him, carefully but quickly scooping him into his arms. 

“Do not move, ad’ika,” Dyn had lightly chastised, resting his Child against a shoulder. His Child had snuggled into it, chittering all the while. “You are not well yet.”

So of course Dyn carries him everywhere, holding him carefully between his chest and arm. His Child doesn't complain, and seems to enjoy the attention, in fact, until he realizes that they're leaving the town. He begins to babble in question, looking from villager to villager. 

“Thank you again, for everything,” Dyn said to Omera, who is setting their final package on the cart. She straightens and smiles sadly at his visor.

“And thank you,” Omera said in reply. She takes a step back when Winta runs forward.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she said to the Child, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it. The Child babbles some more, as though trying to answer her, and she steps back as well, to stand next to her mother.

“Give me a call if you’re ever in the area,” Cara said, and they shake hands. “I could kick your ass again.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

He takes a seat on the cart, and sets his Child beside him. He can see the head tilting this way and that, confusion clear in his eyes.

This was going to be hard on both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> blehblebleh
> 
> oh here are the mando'a translations(roughly anyway lol)
> 
> "Bear it, child, bear.", "Cara wants to help you, child, hush, hush...", and the "Mar'e!" is a word of relief. kinda like "phew" or something similar


End file.
